


Tear Down Your Fortresses

by used_songs



Category: Black Panther (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8192638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/used_songs/pseuds/used_songs
Summary: Tony can only think of one reason why the king of Wakanda would drop by for a visit.





	

“How is Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes?” T’Challa asked politely, holding out his hand to Tony in greeting. Behind him, the Dora Milaje fanned out, taking defensive stances around the entry way. FRIDAY had already alerted him to the presence of the king’s bodyguards dotted around the otherwise vacant compound. Rhodes was off visiting with some of his Air Force buddies who were on leave. Vision had left a few days earlier, intent on experiencing the Grand Canyon for himself after seeing a documentary on the national park system. There was nobody else.

“He’s better. We’ve been experimenting with several different exoskeletons. He’s regained a lot of mobility, but there’s still room for improvement.” Tony tightened his lips reflexively, releasing T’Challa’s hand and gesturing for the younger man to proceed him into the empty common room seating area. As they sat, Tony added, “How are things in Wakanda?” He reached for the decanter he had previously set out for this conversation and poured each of them two fingers of Scotch. He hadn’t been sure exactly what the King of Wakanda wanted to discuss, although he had had his suspicions.

“We are well,” T’Challa replied gravely, taking the offered glass and turning it in his strong fingers to admire the color. “It has been an adjustment, opening ourselves - our nation - up to outsiders.” He smiled faintly. “There have definitely been a few times recently when I have questioned the wisdom of so doing. On balance, however, it has been useful for us and will make us stronger.”

Tony nodded. “I guess that would be hard. It’s not like the rest of the world has much to offer Wakanda. Which makes me wonder what I can do for you…”

“I wanted to speak with you about several things.” T’Challa paused, as if unsure where to begin.

Tony nodded and gestured for him to continue before taking a sip. Inwardly, he was all too aware that his pulse had sped up, but he made every effort to project a blasé mask of calmness.

“First, I wanted to speak with you about your Mars project.”

Tony’s quick smile never made it to his eyes. “Not my project. I’m just part of it.”

T’Challa shook his head, “Hair splitting. Your part is the part I am most interested in.”

“Alien threats?” Tony said flatly. “Yeah. I wish I could be in it for the scientific and engineering challenge … for the fun of it. It would be nice to able to want to see what’s out there and feel hopeful. But …”

“But you’ve already seen part of what’s out there,” T’Challa finished. “Knowledge doesn’t always make us happy.”

Tony sighed. “I have to hope that there’s other stuff out there. Good stuff. But what we’ve seen so far needs to be dealt with. I take it you’ve seen the preliminary reports from Goldstone and Canberra?”

T’Challa nodded. “I have. And Wakanda is interested in working with you.”

“I’m not going to lie. That would be an enormous help. I know your scientists are way ahead of NASA and JAXA on laser communication. At least … I heard a rumor that you were. If so, I’d love to consult with them. I don’t have much to offer in return. I’m more of a robotics and AI guy.”

“That can be arranged. We have considered hosting an international scientific conference, to reintroduce ourselves to the rest of the world more fully and make it very clear what Wakanda has to offer to those who are interested in working with us. Perhaps you could attend?” T’Challa asked. “Or at least meet with our team before the actual conference begins?”

“I’m surprised you’d voluntarily allow a Stark on your sovereign territory,” Tony said, refreshing both of their drinks and then leaning back.

T’Challa looked at him serenely. “I’m not worried about Tony Stark or anyone he might choose to bring with him. I trust your intentions and your judgment.”

Tony gave a half smile, but he didn’t respond.

“You are not your father. You are not an American imperialist. You don’t wear the United States flag as you invade nations and overrule the wishes of their people,” T’Challa stated baldly. “I have heard many things about you from the splinter group of Avengers, and I have also read the Wakandan security briefings on Iron Man, on your company, and on you.”

Abruptly dry-mouthed, Tony took another quick sip of his drink. “In that case, I’m kind of surprised you bothered to come all of this way,” he said dismissively.

The king ignored his remark. “In particular, I have been interested in your career since you were captured and held hostage in Afghanistan.” He paused when it appeared that Tony was about to make another comment. Tony shook his head briefly and T’Challa continued. “My father and I discussed the phenomenon of how a seemingly selfish, self-indulgent man could so quickly become selfless, rise from the ashes of his former self.”

Tony cleared his throat, looking down at his hands. “Not seemingly. I was definitely selfish and definitely self-indulgent. The jury is still out on whether I’ve reformed.”

“This is not a trial, Mr. Stark. Merely a conversation.”

Tony looked at him then. “Why? Why would you waste your valuable time with the remains of the Avengers?”

“I’m not as interested in the Avengers as I am in you. I would like to get to know you better.”

“Why?”

T’Challa said patiently, “Because you intrigue me. “

“Why?”

“I know this is a painful subject, but it seems I must broach it. The … guests I have staying in Wakanda have been wholly negative on the subject of your character, yet everything I have seen or read about the way you have attempted to rectify prior mistakes and move forward as a better man makes me question what they have said. The scientists in my country have nothing but praise for your work, and they seldom praise outsiders. People I have spoken to from the UN have told me how much of your own time, effort, and money you have poured into repairing damage caused by all of the Avengers. Mr. Stark, you intrigue me.”

Tony replied, “I wish you would … just call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my dad.”

T’Challa nodded. “I would like to know you better, Tony. You. Not someone else’s view of you, whether biased for or against you. You.”

Tony spread the fingers of his empty hand out against his knee. “Get to know … me?”

“If you are free, I would very much like to take you to dinner. I took the liberty of making reservations in hopes that you would say yes.” He smiled slightly. “Will you allow me to take you out to dinner?”

Tony looked at his reserved and handsome face, his eyes full of deep intelligence, and was abruptly speechless. T’Challa smiled more fully and repeated, “Will you allow me to take you to dinner? This evening?”

“Yeah, OK. I’ll go out to dinner with you,” Tony said. “Just to be completely clear, because I have had more than enough misunderstandings due to inadequate communication to last a lifetime … is this a date? Because it sounded like you were -.”

T’Challa said firmly, “It’s a date. So that we may grow to know each other better. Will you be able to be ready by 8?” When Tony paused before answering, he added, “Security will be handled by my bodyguards, and I will arrange for the cars.”

“Sure,” Tony said, feeling vaguely that the situation had gotten completely out of his control. “Absolutely.”

T’Challa set down his glass and rose smoothly. “Then I will see you this evening.”

“Looking forward to it.” Tony replied lightly, rising and turning his head slightly to make sure that T’Challa and his entourage were actually leaving. Once he was alone in the room again, he shook himself slightly.

“Boss?”

“I just got asked out on a date by the King of Wakanda, FRIDAY,” Tony said quietly.

“Be careful, Boss. What if he’s just gathering information for the Avengers he’s harboring?”

“Oh, I will, FRI. I’ve learned to be very careful with who I trust.” Tony frowned. “And now I’d better get to work if I’m going to be done upgrading the suit before 8.”

 

Tony leaned against the bar, his weariness wrapped around him, looking idly out the large glass windows at the beginning of dusk. His temples throbbed and he felt a band of tension over his skull and down the back of his neck into his shoulders. In the distance, he heard voices at the entryway. “Your date has arrived, Boss,” FRIDAY said. “He has his security detail with him.”

“How do I look, FRI?” Tony asked, turning his glass on the bar top and sliding it through the cool ring of condensation.

“I’m sure you look very handsome, Boss, as always,” FRIDAY replied primly. Tony tossed back the last of his drink, sighed, and stood up as T’Challa entered the room. The king wore a beautiful dark gray suit that showed off his powerful frame perfectly, and Tony felt his pulse kick up in a way that it hadn’t in a long time.

“Good evening, Tony,” T’Challa said gravely. “Are you ready to go?”

“Let’s do this,” Tony said flippantly, suppressing his momentary weakness and shooting his cuffs as he casually pushed off from the bar.

Something in his expression gave T’Challa pause, and the king looked uncertain for the first time. “Can we sit and talk for a moment before we leave? Somewhere private where we won’t be disturbed?”

“Is there any place in the world like that?” Tony asked rhetorically as he ushered T’Challa to one of the low benches that looked out onto the courtyard. “I hope you don’t mind FRIDAY. She’s pretty much ubiquitous in the compound.” He gestured. “And I don’t turn off my security for anyone.”

T’Challa shook his head minutely as they sat side by side. “Of course not. She is part of you, is she not? Like the Iron Man suit?”

Tony considered. “In a sense. But she’s on her way to becoming her own person.”

“And you don’t desire to stand in the way of that?” T’Challa asked curiously.

“No.” Tony paused. “It’s not my call. I may write the initial code, but once an AI truly becomes intelligent … once they become a person, then it wouldn’t be right for me to intervene.”

“Like children, I suppose,” T’Challa mused softly, thinking of his father.

“What’s up? Second thoughts?”

T’Challa looked out over the brutalist lines of the courtyard. “No. I just wanted to make sure that this is something that you want to do. I know that I want to get to know you with an eye toward perhaps something more. But if you are not interested, then I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Do you really think I can be pressured into things I don’t want?” Tony asked with an edge in his voice, his gaze fixed on the middle distance but very aware of T’Challa in his peripheral vision.

T’Challa glanced at him. “Yes. I think it happens frequently.” He shrugged gracefully. “I’ve seen the expression on your face when you have to give a press conference or testify at the UN. You’re a gifted actor, but it’s obvious to someone who is really looking that you don’t want to be there.”             

Tony looked back at him and then flashed a brief but sincere smile. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole. I just … you’re probably better off forgetting about this. You came a long way for nothing. I’ll go to your science conference because I have a vested interest in -.”

T’Challa cut in. “I would like to go to dinner with you, Tony.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “OK. But I warned you. I am an asshole.”

“I will take this under advisement.” T’Challa rose and offered Tony his hand. “But perhaps that is one of the reasons I asked you out in the first place.”

Tony tilted his head and looked up. “Hmmm … well, then you are unique among my acquaintances. Even the few people who like me don’t like this side of me.”

“Perhaps.” T’Challa again proffered his hand, and this time Tony took it and stood. T’Challa held his hand loosely for a moment while they stood there; then he squeezed it slightly and released.

“I just don’t know why you would bother,” Tony said quietly. “I’m damaged goods … physically, politically …” He grimaced. “Spiritually.” He flinched, just a little, when T’Challa’s hand brushed his fingers again. “I’m not a good man, by nature. I’m not … heroic. Wakanda has nothing to learn from me when it comes to technology. You don’t need my money or any influence I might have.”  He closed his eyes. “I’m not even fun anymore. Or hopeful. I have nothing to offer you.”

“Except, perhaps someday, yourself,” T’Challa said in an intimate tone.

“But what does that mean? What is that worth?” Tony replied softly, almost under his breath.

“Tony, I just want to have dinner with you and enjoy some intelligent conversation.”

Tony stood silently for a few beats. Then he turned and looked at T’Challa, meeting his dark eyes. “OK,” he said quietly. “Let’s do this.”

As they walked without speaking through the empty rooms and out the door to the waiting car, the Dora Milaje fell in around and behind them, their expressions serious and intense. T’Challa handed Tony into the back seat of the car and then slid in behind him.  He left a small gap between them on the cool leather of the seat. One of the Dora Milaje sat in the front with the driver and the rest got into the other vehicles.

 

They were quickly whisked through the restaurant to a secluded dining area as the Dora Milaje took up various positions throughout the dimly-lit space.

As they sat, T’Challa said, “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a menu dégustation. I have heard that the chef here is quite adventurous, and I wanted to sample her techno-emotional cuisine. Is this acceptable to you?”

Tony glanced at him as he settled in his chair, then he looked back at the table.  “Sure,” he said flatly.

T’Challa’s lips thinned slightly as he looked at Tony. Tony glanced up again and the corners of his mouth drew down. “I’m sorry.” Tony raised his hand, palm outward. “Asshole.” He shrugged. “I’ll try harder.”

“Please let me indulge you a little. It gives me pleasure.” T’Challa paused, then he reiterated as he ran a finger along the edge of the table, “I want to be here with you. I want to get to know you, Tony.”

The waiter appeared with the first course just as the sommelier left their table. Tony sipped his wine and eyed the course that was set before him with some interest. T’Challa caught his eye and smiled, “Shall we?”

Tony nodded.

As T’Challa picked up his fork, he said, “You know, I visited the Tanegashima Space Center when I was a teenager.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “Really? Did you see a launch?”

“Unfortunately, no. But we did get a tour of the Yoshinobu Launch Complex. I remember being very impressed.”

“Did you want to be an astronaut?”

T’Challa laughed. “Briefly. You?”

Tony raised his wine glass to his lips to cover his answering grin. “Briefly.”

 

“You said that you have nothing to offer,” T’Challa said, meeting Tony’s gaze and holding his eyes across the table. “That is not true. You are a visionary. It is not an easy thing to be. It is uncomfortable, the conflict between what could be and what currently is. It can be frightening … and sometimes it can be dangerous.”

Tony winced.

“But it can also be compelling, can influence others in ways even you can’t predict or direct.”

“A wild card,” Tony muttered, toying doubtfully with his eel and beet salad.

T’Challa smiled at his almost comical dismay. “Don’t eat it, Tony. It’s not very good. The next course is on its way out.”

Tony flashed him a grin and took a small bite. Then he frowned and took a large drink of wine.

“Nothing so prosaic as a wild card. Don’t you often feel that you are playing an entirely different game than most of the rest of the world?” asked T’Challa.

“You, too, huh?” Tony replied and T’Challa answered him with an oddly relaxed smile. Tony felt himself grinning back.

 

As they climbed into the backseat of the car, T’Challa leaned back and said thoughtfully, “I find it difficult to believe that you are without hope.”

“Why’s that?” Tony asked, relaxing against the smooth leather seats.

“If you had no hope … you wouldn’t be putting so much effort into preparing for the defense of our planet.” T’Challa reached over and laced his fingers through Tony’s, ignoring his slight recoil. He loosely gripped the other man’s hand and, after a moment, Tony’s hand relaxed and he held on.

“Maybe I exaggerated,” Tony said, laying his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. “I do that sometimes.”

T’Challa chuckled. “Thank you for going out with me tonight, Tony. I had a good time.”

Tony rolled his head and opened his eyes to look at T’Challa. “I had fun. I wasn’t sure … but I’m glad I said yes,” he admitted. “It was nice. I haven’t had a nice evening out in … in a long time.”

T’Challa leaned toward him. “May I kiss you?”

Tony looked at him for several long beats. Then he smiled, “I wish you would.”

 

 

 


End file.
